Dream Country
by Leishe
Summary: [AU] This world is as fragile as it is forbidden. Without mysteries, it cannot survive. [modern fantasy Naruto in Wonderland. XD]
1. Sunrise

Hi everyone! I haven't written in the Naruto Section for a while. Got inspired all of a sudden, and decided to do a Modern Fantasy take on team seven's adventures. Tell me what you think, and enjoy!

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_leishe_

**Dream Country**

Dawn was something that none of the children ever wanted to chase away. When the muted grey and yellow light illuminated the jagged tops of the stone and glass skyscrapers lining the horizon, it was the only time that they could see the string fairies dancing and floating gracefully in the air, while the city they called "mother" began to slowly lurch awake. It was the only time the sunlight was pure, because for the rest of the day, it was oil streaked and blackened. The grey mist began to settle everywhere once more, and then mother awakened, growling at the brightness which had dimmed down to a timid whimper. And then everything was dark once more.

But such was the fate of the city, and its children.

I.

The young man was throttled awake by the small, scrawny girl. Her thin fingers were grappling at his throat and pressing his adam's apple down, making him choke. Two blue eyes flew open.

"Finally!" said a shrill voice, "You're so damn lazy, Naruto…it's almost morning!"

…morning? The words struck the boy, but then bounced off of him. It was morning already. Somehow, morning called to him as if it was only an echo.

"Meow."

He felt something furry and warm rub itself against his sprawled legs, licking the parts where his skin was bare, and then, before he could see it properly, scamper off without a sound. Naruto yawned and stretched, realizing only now that his arms were aching, his back hurting, and that there was a thin, malnourished little girl standing in front of him, glaring down with her eyes afire.

"Stupid Naruto," she spat, rolling a cigarette butt on the ground with the heel of her bare foot. "Come on. We'll be late for breakfast."

The boy blinked, rubbing at his tired eyes, and running the tip of his tongue over his cracked lips. There was something wrong with his throat today, like someone had rolled up a piece of sandpaper and shoved it down his throat. But that didn't matter. A new day meant a new start, didn't it? Perhaps he would feel better after a hot meal, and maybe, a bath.

He smiled, sniffing the air. It still reeked of smoke, canals, and beggars. Breakfast sounded wonderful.

Naruto got up from his sleeping place- a corner of a deserted factory- which he shared with the other homeless people. The girl stamped her foot impatiently.

"Naruto…!"

He laughed, but his stomach cried inside of him. "Okay Hanabi-chan," he heard himself say, "I'm coming." And then, as an afterthought, "…I hope that old crone cooked something decent for us to eat today."

II.

Inside the colossal mazes of the city lay a small corner of paradise, as some put it, called the Rhombus Garden. It was a place that was mostly untouched by the growling dank blackness of the city, where the grass was unbelievably green, and the sky bluish-grey instead of brown. This urban paradise was dominated by the rich elite—a handful of powerful clans that consisted of the socialites, the businessmen, and of course, the political leaders.

The houses in Rhombus Garden were, to put it simply, colossal. The theme was mostly Mediterranean, with tiled roofs and patios and tall trees dancing in the wind that the weather generator made. The Elite dined in clubhouses, took dips in their blue, blue swimming pools and strolls in the massive and luxurious gardens that their little haven of pleasure was known for.

For the people living in the city, it was _the_ life. The best of the best of the best. Anyone who had set foot in the garden of heaven, as some said, was an extremely lucky person.

III.

The young man watched placidly as his mother wandered about in the swimming pool, treading water with light, graceful movements. Her white arms seemed to glow in the bright blue chlorine. She was smiling at something when his father came along, a mango shake in hand, and a red cherry hanging on to the lip of the tall glass.

_Splash._

Sunlight was streaming down from the incredibly translucent dome that encircled the Garden, and it sparkled off the chlorinated waters, causing dots of light to appear before the boy's eyes. He rubbed at them and blinked rapidly.

"Sasuke!" his mother called, beaming at him. "Come and join me!"

His father stood by at the poolside, sipping his cold drink, and nodding. "Come on, son. You can't stay in the shade forever, you know!" and then he chuckled, and his wife laughed along with him.

The young man let a shallow sigh escape his chest, and then hit the stop button on the slim device that was currently attached to his left ear; a music player. Extremely light, high-quality, and expensive. He detached the device from his ear and tossed it lightly onto the table. Sasuke felt eyes on him as he walked to the pool, and descended into the water.

"Morning swims are just marvelous, aren't they?" His mother asked, swimming up to him.

"Mm," he said, agreeing only partially. His family enjoyed spending time at the swimming pool when it was morning, and his parents would have the servants take the food down to the poolside tables so that they could eat while sitting in the shade of the big umbrellas.

But then, morning swims also meant that Sasuke would have to socialize with _the other people_ at the pool, namely, Those Three Horrible Girls. They were best friends, and two were cousins. One thing they had in common was shrill and annoying laughs. Another thing was that they all had crushes on Sasuke.

"Hi!"

Contact was unavoidable. He stiffened and nodded once. She went away, and he continued, muttering something. How he wished that evil brother of his was still around. It would make things a lot easier had Itachi still been living with them.

IV.

The alarm clock rang once, and the figure that was buried under loads and loads of thick soft cloth suddenly kicked to life. A hand reached out to grab the alarm clock and deactivate it, white the other struggled to peel the heavy blankets off the rest of its body. Two strained, tired eyes peeked out from the bed.

"Six…fifty four…"

"SAKURA! I'm leaving, OKAY? Breakfast is in the MICROWAVE!"

"…Yes mom…"

Her voice was still weak—creaky, from the drugged sleep that she had fallen into the night before. The girl sighed and settled once more into her warm haven of cloth and listened to the door of the apartment slam shut. Her mother was gone, off to work at the bland little accounting office in the city. She stretched, opening her mouth wide to let out a yawn, and hopped out of bed.

Ping! went the microwave, and she took out the plastic bowl of synthetic oatmeal, and set it on the table. The small apartment was empty now. It had one medium-sized window, where the dim grey light filtered in, catching onto the smudged glass. Sakura sighed and rubbed her left upper arm, dipping the metal spoon into the lukewarm oatmeal and opening her mouth to eat it.

She grimaced. It was lumpy. Her mother never did believe in the practicality of freeze-dried food. Always insisted on something "healthy" for breakfast. Sakura pushed the bowl away from her and got up to rummage for something better in the refrigerator.

The door opened. And something crawled out.

Sakura jumped back in shock and screamed. Her eyes went wide as she saw the monstrous grey creature crawl slowly out of the refrigerator, covered in grey sewage and dripping it all over the kitchen floor.

Its eyes were like those of a dead fish, and its body was long and lumpy and scaly. The thing had a mouth, wide and grinning in a frightening way, with hundreds of long, jagged teeth inside.

She screamed again, at her wit's end, and ran to her mother's room. Hurriedly, Sakura fumbled with the lock on the door, and it clicked. The girl collapsed on the bed, heart racing. She took short, jagged breaths, and her eyes flicked around, wondering what to do.

They fell on her mother's old handgun, lying on one of the cabinets. Shaking, Sakura got up and took the black piece of metal in her hands, hesitantly. She checked it. It was loaded with two shots. The girl shuddered, wondering if she really had the strength to do this.

V.

The man with white hair got out of his car, which was parked in an empty parking lot. There was a small diner in front of him, painted white and blue. The man grinned, knowing that there were people inside—specifically, female people. He cast a backward glance at the flat, brown horizon, and saw a small, but nevertheless hideous silhouette of towering black in the distance. He looked at it warily, wearily.

"I'm free…" he sighed, and then he turned around to enter the diner, because he was hungry.

VI.

Naruto lined up with Hanabi at the long line of hungry, haggard-looking people that lined up by the gasoline station every morning. The line led up to a large, square grey machine, which spat out a gob of brown stuff and a piece of bread on a tray.

The boy grinned as he listened to his stomach rumble. He patted it, knowing that delicious food was coming soon. He was next to the machine, now, and Hanabi already had her tray. She grimaced at it, as if she didn't eat this kind of food every morning.

Naruto took his tray and followed the thin girl back to the factory.

VII.

A phone rang, somewhere in the large, beautifully-arranged house. He picked it up, not really knowing who to expect.

"Uchiha."

"It's me," the voice on the other line answered.

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to dad."

Sasuke blinked. "…why?"

The voice chuckled and in his mind's eye, the boy saw his brother smile briefly.

"I'm getting married."

Sasuke dropped the phone.

VIII.

She was shaking horribly, almost kneeling on the ground. The ugly monster was dead, and its carcass lay a few feet away from her, with its large tail still hanging into the edge of the open refrigerator. The neighbors had heard the gunshot, she assumed, and Sakura just sat there, in her pajamas, shivering.

Its blood was a deep, deep crimson, almost maroon, and was splattered all over the floor. Some had gotten on her shirt, and it smelled horrible. The gun also lay a few feet away, with no shots left. It had taken only two to the head to kill the sewer creature.

Sakura wondered, for a moment, if anyone would come.


	2. Snake Train

_leishe_

**Dream Country**

The train was like a long, giant snake, slithering noiselessly through the tall buildingtops of the city's skyline. It was made of reinforced aluminium plates, and floated an inch above the magnetic track. It curved in and out of the city's main streets and avenues, sometimes going down, sometimes up, and was piloted by an empty chair, which, oddly, swivelled in all the right directions, as if someone was sitting there. But it was driven by a computer.

Everyone knew that. And it was the safest commuting machine in the world. No one had been killed by riding the snake train. Yet.

I.

Sakura watched her reflection in the thick glass as the city maze passed by below her. Her face was still very pale from the refrigerator incident, and it had been hard to remove the dark red stain from her pajamas. Luckily, Asuma the gardener was able to help her drag the creature's rapidly rotting carcass out onto the street, where it would be run over by the grey blur of cars, crushed into the asphalt until it was no more.

The girl sighed and fiddled at the fringes of her school uniform. School. So…plain. Of course, there were the boys and the girls and her giggling schoolfriends who relished attending unisex parties and whispering to each other in the hallways about people. There were also the teachers, who smiled and shouted and whipped and growled, but they too were only parts of it. She sighed.

"Academy 00674223." Said the speaker.

_beep. beep. beep._

The snake train began to slow, and Sakura gathered up her things. Her black shoes squeaked against the floor. They still smelled faintly of the refrigerator creature's blood, even after hours of vigorous scrubbing and cleaning and perfuming. The doors to the train opened and then they closed with a puff of air, and she was gone.

II.

Breakfast from the machine was never enough for Naruto and Hanabi and consequently, some others. Once they got back to the homeless factory, the smell of food brewing reached the boy's nose, and it twitched in eagerness.

"Mmm…smell that Hanabi? I think it's stewed fish today!"

The scrawny girl sniffed the air. She nodded a little. "Yeah. Isabella probably got tired of lifeless cabbage after a few months."

Naruto let out a light chuckle. "I guess."

The walked, carrying their metal trays, to a corner of the factory where the other people were gathered. The small crowd was dressed similarly—in oddly assorted pieces of cloth, with worn-out patterns and laces and dots of all sorts. In the thick of the crowd was an old woman with sparse grey-white hair and rearranged teeth. She was bent over a fairly large black cauldron from where the fumes of cooking food emanated.

"Hanabi," the old woman croaked, once she and Naruto neared, "Hanabi, come here."

Rolling her eyes, the young girl obeyed, shoving her tray into the boy's stomach so that he could hold it. Naruto sent her an irritated look but she ignored him, going up to the old hag. Wordlessly, she took hold of the long wooden ladle that the woman used to stir the food with.

A man handed her his bowl, which was a used and washed plastic container of instant ramen. Hanabi took it and put a spoonful of fish stew inside, and did so for the next bowl, and the next. One by one, each of the homeless handed their bowls to her—some were discarded pieces of Tupperware, others, used plastic cups and ice cream tubs. The girl filled them all until there was nothing left to fill.

The old crone nodded, showing her teeth, like always. Hanabi left the ladle in the cauldron, to go and fetch her own bowl, and Naruto's too. It went like this almost every morning, the only difference being that the soup today was fish stew instead of cabbage soup. A rarity, but then it would most probably be gone by the next day.

"It…tastes…different."

"Hm. A little colder than the cabbage soup, but this will do."

"The eyes taste nice."

"…yeah."

They sat on the steps of the factory, which led into the now-locked doors where the workers used to go in. The concrete was cold and hard against their bodies, but Naruto and Hanabi sat there, braving the spiteful, shivering breeze that blew against their necks.

He spooned a helping of quickly cooling fish stew into his mouth, and watched as the blackish smoke clouds floated like sleeping monsters, on the horizon. Mother was fully awake now, and he could hear her sounds; grumbling, lurching, complaining. It was like always and yesterday and perhaps, tomorrow.

III.

Brown, tailored cloth. The suit was a little too snug for the thin, canary-like man, and the cuffs of the white shirt he wore underneath stretched out a little too far. The back of his head was bald and shiny, with exception of the bottom portion, where a smattering of black-green hair still grew. The teacher's hand moved methodically against the blackboard, drawing white against dark green, and saying unintelligible things.

Sasuke stifled a yawn and sat up straighter in his seat to chase the sleep away. One of the girls sitting in his vicinity giggled adoringly, and the young man fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The teacher stopped writing, and the warning bell rang. The sounds of students shuffling and getting up and walking away echoed into nothing, as Sasuke got his own bag and exited the room. The teacher collected his teaching materials and went out as well.

"Hi Sasuke-kun," said someone he didn't recognize. Sasuke nodded once and continued to his next class. Biology, or was it Chemistry? His feet made muffled sounds against the floor, and a door was pushed open.

"Good morning class!" said the teacher. "Today we shall be learning about a grasshopper's tracheal tubes!"

Sasuke sat down and tried to fall asleep.

IV.

Her friends were in the girls' bathroom when she arrived, talking excitedly about something that probably had to do with the upcoming prom. Sakura wandered inside, dropping her bag tiredly on one side and going to the nearest sink to wash her face of stress. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw that there was still a faint shade of red clinging to her left pinkie.

"Sakura!" said one of her friends. They smiled at her and talked some more, and then gathered around the girl to look at her in the mirror.

"What happened to you?" asked one friend, who smelled like artificially-bred lemonized strawberry. "We didn't see you for the whole day!"

Sakura smiled emptily, and squirted some blue-colored soap onto her palm. She started scrubbing, and a nice blue lather began to form. She didn't talk as she scrubbed, and her friends grew tired of waiting, so they started talking about the prom again, and about dresses and dates and boys…about things that schoolgirls usually got excited about.

She turned off the faucet after rinsing, and raised her eyebrow at them all. "A sewer creature got into my house, and I killed it."

Her friends gasped. "A sewer creature? How? Where? Why?" "Maybe your mother forgot to have your house fumigated last month." "Ick" "You killed it!" "What did it look like?" "Was it like the one that they showed on TV last time?" "How did you get it out?" "Did it smell like flies?" "How many teeth?" "What did you use to kill it!"

The torrent of questions ensued, and suddenly, Sakura regretted ever telling her friends about the sewer monster. She turned back to the mirror to check her hair, and smiled once more at them, with a hint of weariness in her beleaguered expression. And then Sakura left the bathroom, leaving the girls with a ton of unanswered questions dangling on the ends of their scented tongues.

V.

The tall woman was in her garden in the afternoon, watering her plants. She didn't like doing this. Plants were for decoration. For pleasure. But then they had to live, as well. The woman grunted, aiming the stream of water at the far corner, so that it would rain down on the crusty palm plant whose leaves were beginning to brown.

A window opened, somewhere in the second floor of her house, and a voice rang through the air.

"Miss Tsunade!"

The woman looked up to see the young, fair-skinned face, framed by dark locks and painted with a small smile. She nodded once, returning the smile.

"Shizune…?"

"I…um…kind of tried to rearrange the blue china! Where do the teacups go?"

"In the left side of the bookshelf." she answered, turning back to her gardenwork. The young woman called Shizune looked puzzled.

"Bookshelf?"

"Tap it thrice. A compartment should come out."

Shizune's eyes widened, but she nodded nevertheless, and her head disappeared back into the house. Tsunade continued spraying her plants with cold rainwater, humming softly to herself as she flipped one of her pigtails to one side. In a few minutes she stopped the flow of water from the hose, and coiled it back into place.

Her eyes landed on a rosebush, and the woman smiled. The rosebush was one of her favourites.

She let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, and cast a glance down at the empty street and the row of houses lining them. Tsunade closed her eyes for five moments, and with a shallow sigh, continued into the slightly ajar door of her house. It closed with a sad, odd thud.

Jiraiya…

VI.

Sakura dropped her bags in the corner, and proceeded to the wide, round table carved out of willow wood. A stack of books were on the table, and next to them, another stack of white paper. Beside the white paper was a smiling man, who had glasses and teeth and silver hair. He was playing with a pen, twirling it in and out of his flexible fingers, flipping it in the air and then catching it.

Sakura cleared her throat to make her presence known.

The man with teeth stopped twirling and smiled at her instead of the pen. He gestured to the seat beside him, and Sakura sat down.

"Hello Haruno. Shall we begin the lesson?"

She nodded.

"Okay," said the man. He took one book out of the stack and began turning the pages. The girl waited while he did this, sitting with her head in her palm, looking idly at the tall clock that was facing the willow table.

"Here we are. Trigonometric Circles."

Kabuto was the tutor, the man with silver hair, glasses, teeth, and a smile. He was smart as tutors were, and skilled at arithmetic and the sciences. What Sakura didn't like about him was his irritating bossiness and his monotonous voice. And the pen twirling. Of course. That was incredibly annoying. Sakura sighed as she skimmed over the list of things she had to review for today, and took a piece of paper.

She took out a pencil and began drawing Kabuto being eaten by a rosebush.

VII.

Naruto was off for the afternoon, working as a newspaper peddler as most of the street urchins did. He was humming happily, with a bunch of folded-up newspapers in his arms, and some loose change in his pocket from the first buyers. Clear blue eyes shone in the filtered light as he travelled down the cemented path with bare, dusty feet, sidestepping the clopping commuters and the canal-spitting geezers.

"Boy. Newspaper." A taxi stopped and the window rolled down. Naruto grinned and approached the buyer eagerly, pushing a newspaper into the open window. The man handed him a few coins, and the boy took them. He nodded his thanks, but the customer ignored him, and the taxi drove away.

Naruto resumed his walking, rounding the residential compound. the tall, bleak apartment buildings loomed over the sidewalk, shading it from the sullen, miserable glower of the muted sun.. The boy wiped the beading sweat from his brow, and then noticed that another shadow was blocking the sun.

He shaded his eyes, squinting.

"Sir?"

The shadow stepped forward, and Naruto was able to see the stranger's face. His eyes were round and blue also, and a few spikes of yellow hair stuck out from beneath a brown bowler hat. The stranger smiled at the young man, and it reached his eyes. For some reason, Naruto's grip on the newspapers trembled.

"Naruto," said the man, "It is time for you to go." He pushed up one of his sleeves, and flicked an arm into the air. The sky turned clear blue for one instant.

The boy stared, with his mouth wide open, and the newspapers fell to the ground. The stranger in the brown bowler hat grinned again, and this time, he resembled Naruto more than ever. He snapped his fingers twice, and the sky turned grey again. And when Yondaime looked down, to the spot where the beggar boy was, he found air, and a stack of newspapers.

Naruto was gone.


	3. Tsunade's House

_leishe_

**Dream Country**

It was sunrise again, but this time, in another part of the city. Green velvet Weeds grew in between the cracks in the sidewalk, and the air had a subtle feeling of deterioration in it. The run-down, neglected neighborhood was all that was left of what had once been the suburbs of Konoha, and tall, proud houses had been reduced to eccentric, ancient crumbles that people regarded as architectural trash.

But neglect was what had saved them from the harsh uniformity of city grey.

A dog barked, or perhaps it was only someone's imagination.

The street was called Lambridge. But it didn't have a lamb, or a bridge. All it had were seventeen old lamp posts, six of which were standardized and looked exactly like all the other lamp posts in the city, and ten of which were old, traditional ones, but didn't work. Only one wrought iron lamp post shone with a small, yellow light, and it was the one that stood a bit crookedly, next to an old brick house with tangled violets growing out of the window.

The curtains of the window were drawn, but a tiny bluish light emanated from behind the old thick glass, as a woman brushed her long flaxen hair, muttering softly to herself in front of the large oval mirror.

I.

Rhombus Garden was bland and deserted in the afternoon, because all the adults were at work, talking on their miniature black cellphones and barking orders at subordinates. The rich children who were finished with school were not permitted to roam about in the city, because the pollution would affect their brains and there was this constant fear of being held up, mugged or kidnapped.

There were only three residents in the Uchiha household, and two were at work. Sasuke closed the front door with a short thud and walked up to his room, taking short, deliberate steps. The servants loitered around the gardens when they had nothing else to do, and the young man wasn't really demanding. He usually concentrated on reading books about war and religion, and practicing gestures of the ancient kind, used in the old times as martial arts.

Tap. Tap.

He sighed and rolled off his soft bed, shuffling feet across and opening the door. The woman servant who usually attended to his mother--Chiharu--was in the hallway, smiling at him lopsidedly.

"…yes?"

"Your mother is on the phone, young master. She would like to speak to you."

Sasuke grunted and nodded once to Chiharu. He walked past her, down the hallway, and descended the large mahogany staircase that led to the spacious velvet-carpeted living room, where the telephone was.

He picked up the receiver.

"Mother?"

"Sasuke, darling, we're here at your brother's um, apartment. I called to tell you that your father and I won't be back until after dinner, since these wedding arrangements and all that will take quite a bit of time…"

"Aa."

"So you're fine there? I asked Hideo to let Korosu out of his sanctuary so he can play with you."

"Mm."

"Okay honey. See you later."

Sasuke put the phone down, wondering why Itachi had decided to tell them about his life all of a sudden. His brother would be…twenty-one by now, and that was seven years after the ugly incident that had marred his ties with the family. There was no love lost between the brothers, however, and Sasuke had regarded Itachi as someone who would be better left alone. He was an evil brother, with a rare smile and a sardonic sense of humor…

"I wonder who the female specimen is." Chiharu said, putting a sudden end to Sasuke's train of thought. After a few moments, he found himself wondering that also. Only a very patient and extreme female would be able to cater to his brother's unsettling personality…

II.

"…that will be all for today, Sakura. Can we meet tomorrow?"

She nodded once, and gathered up her books. Kabuto adjusted his glasses on his nose, and grinned at her, putting his own things away. Upstairs, Sakura heard the sound of frantically running feet, and a face poked out above the railing of the narrow staircase. It was a woman, whom she knew only as Shizune.

The young woman waved at her. "Hello Sakura-chan."

Sakura smiled and returned the greeting, while Kabuto sobered and flashed a warm, loving smile at Shizune, who met it only with a blank stare.

"Kabuto, how long are you going to take…?"

He grinned. "Not long, dear one."

The woman was unruffled. She met his gaze steadily with one laced with venom. It looked horribly odd on her clean, friendly face, and a chill ran down Sakura's spine. Shizune's words were accurately paced; dangerous maybe.

"Itachi's parents are coming," she stated. "For the wedding arrangements."

The light reflected off Kabuto's glasses, and his eyes couldn't be seen because of the whiteness. He took them off and wiped them with a piece of violet cloth, and replaced them on his noise. An ugly, out-of-place smile suddenly came onto his face, and the canines of his teeth glinted murderously in the afternoon glow.

"Of course not. Dear Shizune."

The woman nodded once. "Good." She disappeared, and the tutor's gaze landed on Sakura. The pen was still wedged in between his long, lithe fingers, in such a position that Kabuto would be able to snap it in half. His face was strained and upset.

"And you're still here because…?"

Her face flushed, and she realized that she had been standing there for longer than was appropriate.

"Ehe…sorry. I'll be going now…"

The girl closed the door behind her with a wary smile on her face. There was a universal law for all unfortunate high school students that tutors, no matter how skilled in their respective subjects, were to be disliked, hated and proclaimed as extremely annoying. It just so happened that Kabuto had been struck by Shizune's rejecting, accusing manner, making Sakura giggle softly with pleasure. She knew he liked her. But she also knew that Shizune hated Kabuto, for reasons unknown to the young woman.

Walking past the outside garden, she noticed that the flowers were blooming and the leaves shining bright green. Sakura cocked her head to one side and thought of how odd the garden looked when compared to the monochromatic landscape. Oh well.

And then she passed the rosebush, which was a huge monster of a bush in itself. A secret, sly grin found its way to her lips, and Sakura thought of the drawing on the piece of scratch paper, still on top of the willow table. She reached out to touch one of the leaves, and smiled.

"You really wouldn't eat Kabuto, would you?"

The rosebush smiled and did not answer.

III.

Hanabi looked out at the empty streets, and at the small, clear plastic bags and pieces of paper that danced upon the asphalt while the brittle wind blew. She rubbed her arms and her hair, and for a slight moment, allowed her face to betray feelings of worry for Naruto, who hadn't arrived from work since late afternoon.

"…idiot…" she muttered, narrowing her eyes.

The sky was dark already, and in the distance, she could see the neon glow of the large nightclub signs, standing white in the dank greyness of the nighttime surroundings. The thin girl let out a feeble sigh and walked back to the homeless factory, her bare heels gathering filth with every step.

IV.

The man with white hair had left the blue and white diner behind, convinced that he was losing his touch, but not entirely accepting the fact. Every beautiful creature residing within the eating place had vanished upon his entering, and the only one left was the old, middle-aged sag-skinned crone who managed the cooking of the oily breakfast meals.

He had gotten one. A happy-face meal, with egg eyes and a bacon mouth. The traveller's staple, whenever people passed the diner, on their way to the city. Chewing on the leathery pig meat, the man wondered how often people left Konoha. Once in ten years, perhaps.

"They're afraid of the things here," said the woman cook. "Think Dream's a place of nonsense. Of moonshine." There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice, "But they're afraid, still."

He forked the food into his mouth, ignoring her talk. It was similar to the other stories that he had heard of the strange place that lay beyond the black, bland city. Rarely had Tsunade talked of it, but he knew that she knew many things of this so-called Dream Country, and just was not in the mood to reveal anything. Perhaps it had something to do with their other friend, who had run off and never came back.

The man with white hair finished his drink and handed it to the sag-skinned woman. She grunted at him through her old, cracking lipstick, and he paid her, regretting the vanishing of all the beautiful creatures. And after that, he had left.

V.

Lights seemed to float in the dark, clouded sky, and the thick smell of burning jasmine flowers filled the air. The night was alive surprisingly, with people, with parties, and with an illusion of what love was supposed to be. Faint wisps of magic floated about, which was rare in the grey city. Tsunade's house stood in the background of the garden reception, tall and proud…old but unwavering against the evening sky.

People were dancing to music. High heeled ladies sprung easily, laughing softly with each graceful gesture, with each note of elegant music. Their men moved along with liquid-like precision, grinning and putting their hands on their ladies' silken bodies. Bottles of wine popped open at each white cloth-covered table, and guests chatted amiably.

The couple was secluded, covered by shadows from an overgrown willow tree that stood at the side of Tsunade's garden. They exchanged subtle smiles once in a while, and some people didn't call it love. But they knew it was, because for some reason, destiny had intervened to make it so, and they were both powerless against it.

Itachi wore black, and his bride, faded white. Together, they were oddly beautiful, and vaguely untouchable. She watched as the guests made merry, and her ethereal face glowed in the muted moonlight. The wedding night was one of unpredictable mischief, reminiscent of A Midsummer Night's Dream. All around lay magic and witchery, and unvoiced possibilities of what could be.

VI.

"Mother, where is the bathroom?" Sasuke was not one to depend on others, but when he had to go, he had to go. The fact that the reception grounds were alien to him, (Tsunade's garden was huge; rumors of lurking snakes, but few or none were seen) irked the young man all the more, and he was forced to inquire regarding the whereabouts of the lavatory.

"Ask Miss Tsunade, darling. She's the woman in greeeeen."

The woman's voice was too shrill and too soft, and Sasuke knew that she had had plenty of champagne for one night. But his brother was getting married, and so what? He couldn't care less. Itachi was never part of the family in the first place…not since seven years ago. Sasuke deserted his tipsy mother as quickly as was possible; he was _not _her darling baby anymore.

Grumbling to himself, the boy had failed to notice that the tall house was as good as a dark and winding maze, but he couldn't ask any more questions at the risk of appearing as a little boy. Which, technically, he was, being the younger brother and all. But it wasn't true. It wasn't.

"…stupid…bathroom…"

He crept up behind the garden reception, bumping into a large, thorny rose bush. It shook and growled softly, and Sasuke backed away, feeling slightly apprehensive. He stepped on something that broke, and upon closer inspection, found it to be a pair of round glasses.

Raising a brow, the young man looked forward, and swept his eyes over the dim outline of a large wooden door that was supposed to be the back entrance. It looked ancient, and Sasuke reached out to feel over it. Something soft touched his fingertips.

"Ah--!"

He drew his hand back in surprise. The door was covered in several thick layers of ivy. Cursing softly, he avoided the leaves and fumbled for the iron handle that was bound to be somewhere in—

_Aha._

The door swung open like rust, but Sasuke ignored it and strode inside. The bathroom. It was there. It had to be there. Unconsciously, he began walking at a strange angle, feeling slightly desperate for the welcome sanitary aura of the lavatory. His hands wandered to the space between his legs, and the uncomfortable holding sensation leered.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Sasuke froze, and then realized that he was listening to the sound of his own footsteps. Sound in this particular hallway seemed to come two seconds after he actually stepped, which struck the boy as somewhat odd…

After a few minutes of walking, turning, and maneuvering through seemingly endless mazes and paths, a door came into view. There was a table beside the door, on which was draped a white knitted table cloth, and on the cloth were three silver angels and an old picture frame. The young man ignored the table and its white knitted drape and its angels, and went straight to the door, which was the same color as the wallpaper. Sasuke's fingers looked for the knob, but it didn't exist.

"Agh…" He cursed loudly and gripped his pants, for Sasuke really really really needed to use the bathroom, and although he did not want to admit it, was severely lost inside Tsunade's labyrinth of a house. Absently, the young man glanced at the table beside him, and picked up the old picture frame to scrutinize it closely.

A little girl, with a daring smile and pigtails and a

White haired boy with a

Huge cracked grin, and lastly

someone with

coal

night

hair

And pale skin with a ghost of a smile.

Written below were words he couldn't understand.

'_Scribblescribblescribble.'_

Sasuke tipped his head to one side and thought that the three children in the picture smiling beside each other looked rather familiar. He stood there for another three seconds, and then realizing, with a sinking feeling, that he did not have to go to the bathroom anymore. His dark eyes narrowed, and a twisting came to his mouth. Sasuke cursed again.

….and the floor opened beneath him, swallowing his entire body with its splintery mouth. Sasuke didn't have time to scream.

Author's notes:

Hey people:-) Thankies for the nice reviews. Interesting is what I'm aiming for, and I'm trying to keep it short and straight-to-the-point (which doesn't seem very possible, knowing meee…argh) I love you guys. You know that, right:D Wheeee… Thanks to KO'ed for giving be a bit of constructive crit, and to aya for making me feel so special. –wink- XD And to the rest of you wonderful people. :-)


	4. The Last Gate

_leishe_

**Dream Country**

**I.**

The apartment was empty when she returned, all cluttered and damp like she had left it. The front door was hanging slightly open for no obvious reason, and when she touched the black handlebar, a cold draft started blowing, making the girl shiver and huddle further into her thin white jacket. Sakura pushed the door open, and found that her mother had been home. Her black, pointed shoes were there in the corner, and the limp, stretchy brown handbag that the woman always carried with her hung sagging from the hat rack.

"…m-mom?"

Her voice echoed off the bare walls, and the door shut eerily, with a hollow thump. Sakura brushed her hair out of her eyes and walked to the kitchen counter, which was made of cold marble. On top of it stood a small black telephone, and the receiver hanging from it, misplaced. But her mother never misplaced things. Not ever. She was, as some people said, a messy control freak, if ever there was one. Puzzled, the girl took hold of the piece of black plastic, and punched a few buttons to see why her mother had left in such a hurry.

Three numbers flashed onto the small screen on top of the device. Sakura's eyes widened when she saw them.

'_000'_

It was the emergency number, used only during severe disasters, such as fires and break-ins, and also, upon discovery of grave crimes, such as murder, robbery, and so on. Other, smaller and more insignificant incidents were reported to '111', which handled petty accidents, like intruders, adultery, sewer monsters, and things like that.

Worriedly, Sakura put down the receiver. She glanced around tentatively to see if whatever her mother had reported had caused any damage, or, more importantly, was still inside the apartment. The girl shivered again when she remembered the huge alligator-like creature that had appeared from inside the refrigerator. The sharp, clear sound of two gunshots ringing in the air could still play and replay in her head, never missing a beat.

Bang. Bang.

_Creak._

The door opened, and she turned halfway to face it. Suddenly, daylight flooded her pale-skinned face.Her pupils dilated as she realized that there wasn't supposed to be daylight at this time. It was evening. The strong, blinding flashlights were all that occupied her line of sight, and she heard voices. Gruff and commanding, and soft and familiar. It was too much all at once.

"There she is. Men!"

"She-she—yes. She is the one. That brat."

"Bring out the van and haul her in."

Dazed, Sakura tried to register. She looked away from the lights, and found her mother's face. It was a face unlike one she had ever seen before, now twisted with repulsion and disgust aimed towards _her_, the dearly-loved daughter. And she was with the police who were armed to the eyeballs and glaring at Sakura as if she were some criminal. _What had happened?_

"0981. Identity confirmed."

"Haruno Sakura." The chief of police barked, "You are under arrest!" Seven guns clicked all at once.

0981. It was her citizen number and the only way that the rest of the city knew she existed. She blinked and gasped, as a rough hand flew to her white, weak throat, trying to crush her windpipe, and succeeding so far. She coughed and sputtered and tried to fight back. Kicking wildly, she bit down on the officer's thick, tough hand until it bled, red gushing from the bite. She screamed, thrashing, lashing out at everyone in the room, and charging for the door. Men blocked her path, and her mother, too.

"Get her!" shrieked the woman, spidery hands latching onto Sakura's hair, "Quick!" Her mother's touch was no longer warm and caring. It was sharp and prickly and unwelcome, and it_ hurt._

"Aaaahhhh!" The girl delivered a swift kick to the groin and sprung at the blocking policemen, who dodged, and grabbed her arms. They held her firmly and shoved the barrels of their guns at her pretty little head. Sakura's mother was still reeling from the blow, but the chief was done sucking his wounds and walked up grimly to the young woman, his mouth set in a serious line.

"0981, you are under arrest for touching your mother's deadly weapon." His voice was ice cold, matter-of-fact, and his eyes narrowed to slits.

"W-what?"

"You heard me, wench. To the factory with you, where all you stinkin' delinquents go. Into the incinerator and out as dog food. Keeps the mutts healthy, if you know what I mean."

Self defense! Something screamed at her, Self-defense! What was wrong with this city! Killing people for saving their own lives! Is this what mankind had stooped down to? The officer smirked at Sakura's horrified expression. He rolled his tongue around in his mouth and spat on the ground near her feet.

"Scared?" His tone was mocking. "You should be, little scum. After what you've done. Serves you right. Heh. Serves you right." He motioned to the men. "Take her away. Now." They obeyed, and dragged the girl along the dirt, pushing her face into the ground. She could feel the filth rubbing into her skin, and the scratches that tiny grains of sand caused.

The policemen walked her to the black van where they put criminals on their way to the prison. Carefully, one man took both of her arms and clamped them with metal, punching some buttons onto the side so that it locked properly. They did the same to her feet, and to her neck to keep her from breathing normally, so that her body would be weakened. At last, a syringe filled with green liquid was injected down the back of her neck, and Sakura's eyes rolled up into her head, as she lay motionless in the seat.

The policemen smirked at her, grinning at one another in silent congratulations for a job well done. They left her with the van doors bolted, so that there was no way she could escape. Besides, meat was fresher when kept inside an airtight container.

**II.**

Two sleeping, dreaming, traveling souls hung in a temporary phase of unconsciousness, eyes closed and chests rising and falling in rhythmic patterns. One was already tired, grateful for the rest that sleep brought, but the other one was restless and reluctant, fighting against the calming serenity while his body slumbered. He would awake soon enough, and find what he was looking for. Maybe. Both of them had to wait, because the sleep mist wouldn't release them until the third soul arrived.

But then they wouldn't have to wait very long. The third soul was already on her way. Maybe.

**III.**

Beep. Click. Sssssggghhhh…

The handcuffs hissed, sliding open, as if someone had punched in the right code. No one except the drugged prisoner was inside the van, and everything was deathly silent. For no known reason, the handcuffs unlocked, and the doors unbolted. The girl woke up, surprised.

"djfnv…?" she murmured, putting her hand to her head and rocking back and forth, until the stabbing pain inside subsided. It felt like a thousand years whenever she blinked, and every second was creation. The van throttled, and the young girl lost her balance and stumbled onto the floor.

"Ow!"

The van doors opened.

Her large eyes widened even more in utter disbelief. Sakura didn't know what was happening, or what was supposed to happen. But something certainly was happening. The next few minutes were a blur, as she clambered wearily out of the police vehicle, and into the mechanical darkness. No one noticed her, even if it was technically impossible, since her mother and the conversing policemen were only a few feet away.

My feet are lead, she thought, as she walked out of the apartment compound, shivering as each freezing whiff of air traveled her way. Sakura had rarely been out in the open at night, since it was widely known that Mother changed drastically when the sun disappeared into the other side of the world. The night was blind and cruel, and living things and mechanical dangerous things lurked in the black corners of their world of concrete grey.

The muted green lights of the train station appeared in the distance, and wearily, her legs followed. Her body was already tired, and her breathing ragged. The cold wind was chewing at the back of her neck, on the sides of her arms, and at her legs. Teeth chattered miserably, and Sakura choked down a sob.

_What had happened? What had happened? What had happened?_

"Card."

The monotonous mumble of the station robot rang in Sakura's ears, as she fumbled around for the flat piece of plastic that was _somewhere _inside her pocket. Finding it after a few moments, she slid it onto the counter where it was sucked inside a slot, to appear at the other side.

"0981." Said the robot, and the metal bar at the entrance lifted, permitting the girl to pass the checkpoint. Once she crossed, Sakura took her card from the next slot, walking then to where the snake-train's platform was. Solemnly, she looked up at the harsh fluorescent lights that hung from the ceiling. Glancing around, she realized that she was the only one who was standing there. The whole platform—the whole station—was empty.

"Train 050. Last round." The robot's voice came over the PA system, and the ground began to shake. She tilted her head towards the black abyss that was the tunnel, and anticipated the creaky arrival of the snake train. It came, as expected, thundering to a stop. The doors opened in a cloud of cool air. Sakura stepped on. The doors closed.

She sighed and sat down, choosing a place far from the door, and near the window. The train began to move, and she, along with it. Soon, it carried her far, climbing to the tips of the city and barely touching the tall, looming shadows of the business district skyscrapers. Her skin was cool against the smudged glass, as Sakura leaned her forehead against it.

"…mother…" she murmured. The snake train did not stop. The lights inside eventually dimmed down to a comfortable glow as the vehicle approached the last stop. At the back of her mind, the girl knew that she would have to step off in a few minutes, to face the police, the people, and her mother.

But not yet. Sakura closed her eyes, and tried to picture what it would be like if life were not this way…not old and grey and damp and frightening, the way the city was. She thought of color, of skies, of the first rays of dawn. She thought about living. About _strange, interesting, _and_ different._

Sakura fell asleep and the snake train did not stop.

**IV.**

**There was a time before the ancient sun**

**And swinging wheels of heaven had learned**

**to run**

**More certainly than dreams; for dreams**

**themselves**

**Had bodies then, and filled the world with elves.**

**The starveling lusts whose walk is now confined**

**To darkness and cellarage of the mind**

**And shudderings and despairs and shapes of sin**

**Then walked at large, and were not cooped**

**within.**

**Thought cast a shadow: brutes could speak:**

**and men**

**Get children on a star. For spirit then**

**Kneaded a fluid world and dreamed it new**

**Each moment. Nothing yet was false or true.**

_-JRR Tolkien, The Lays of Beleriand_


	5. Deserttraingarden: Enter

_leishe_

**Dream Country**

.o0o.

**Naruto**

Something prickly and small shuffled its feet on top of his nose. It…tickled. An odd sensation, because though it seemed that he hadn't ever felt ticklish before. But the feeling was familiar. He was lying down on something…he didn't know what it was. It felt prickly too, as if a million bits of …something had replaced his cold, hard bed, now sticking to his arms and feet. They were poking into his skin, sticking to it. And the wind was blowing softly.

He felt hot.

Quite suddenly, eyes were open and blue met with blue. An endless square of blue, without patches of white, spread across the sky, neverending. He blinked. What was this? There was something wrong with the sky. It was not—it was _never_ this color. It was never this beautiful.

Something crusty was in his eye, and he reached up, grimacing, and rubbed it away. The stinging sensation lasted for a few minutes, and his eyes began to water.

He tried to sit up. A thousand bits of something clung to his skin, and he groaned and realized that his head hurt. He brushed the bits away from his arms, and picked one up, putting it near his eye so he could scrutinize it properly.

It was tiny. Sitting in between his nail and the ridges of his thumb, and no bigger than a speck of dust. It was the color of…wheat. The color of sand. He blinked, and for a split second, realized that it was, in fact, a grain of sand. And then, another moment later, realized that the million bits of something sticking to his body were all grains of sand, and that he was standing in an ocean of them.

His first reaction was panic.

"Yaagh!" Frantically, he brushed the grains from his skin, eyes wide and shocked. There was quite a lot in his hair, and he began looking around, taking in the scenery.

"Where on earth am I!"

An ocean of sand. An ocean of sand. This was…this was…unreal. Impossible. Wild orbs of bright blue turned jerkily to the unblinking white star that shone in the sky. It blazed down upon him, burning his back and chasing all moisture from his skin. When he saw the star, he knew that it was what he had been seeking all this time, and his mouth hung open in disbelief.

The star was the sun, which he had only seen during the first few moments of dawn, in the city. There in Konoha, it was weak and gentle, its rays only meek cries in the slowly growing darkness. Naruto's throat went dry at the thought of the city, and his heart started beating faster. This was not the city. It was an ocean of sand. And here, the sun was not just a small lamp in the middle of overwhelming greyness. Here, it was angry and beautiful, blinding and majestic. Here, it was cruel and immensely bright so that no one could gaze upon it directly.

"…where am…?" His voice was hoarse, and the words came out unintelligible.

The vast spectacle of majestic sand heaped together in dunes and slopes greeted his sight, wherever it landed. Naruto felt something cold and heavy settle at the bottom of his stomach. This was not Konoha.

**Sakura**

Cloth on cloth. Shuffling, runs in sleeve-bottoms, and the mechanical turning of ancient wheels running over the run-down crags of what used to be the rim of a huge volcano. But no, no. Unimportant. The passengers were supposed to come first, and _this _one wasn't cooperating.

"Miss. Miss?"

"Where'd she get on? We _must _make room for Mrs. Sprinkleberry. Wake her up now, Sidney, Clara." Someone's mother clucked impatiently, and two children mumbled.

"Yes, but she _won't! _And Sidney's not helping…" a high-pitched voice whined.

"Oh all right, all right. Move aside you little twerp." A deeper voice, still scratchy with the remnants of adolescence answered, impatience deeply evident.

"Hey--!"

"Now Clara, it isn't nice to talk back to your brother like that. He's older, after all."

A hand put itself on the sleeping girl's shoulder. All she could see through her eyelids was the hazy, mellow color of tangerine-flaxen. Nothing else. The rhythmic turning of train wheels resounded under her, turning, turning, and then turning. The hand on her shoulder had fingers, and they tapped at her skin impatiently.

"Miss. Please wake up. You've got to make room for Mrs. Sprinkleberry."

Sakura let out a muffled groan, as she was shaken awake by a young, thin man with a green Mohawk. He looked at her with the uttermost annoyance, and beside him stood a girl with long flat black hair, parted at the side and fixed with plain white hairpins. Her face was very pale, and her eyes were very wide.

"Ahhh…" Sakura stretched her arms and looked at them both. A thin, tired smile was on her face. The boy looked strange, and he was probably one of those rebellious street thugs that the Konoha police were tasked to eliminate. The girl was more ordinary, with the customary monochromatic set of clothing.

"Are we at Station 0724 yet?" Sakura asked, rubbing her eyes. "I think I missed the stop."

Normally, she wouldn't even attempt to communicate with the passengers riding on the snake train. This situation, though, required some interaction with fellow human beings. The boy and the girl stared at her for a few moments, as if she were some strange creature from another fictional universe. And then, after what seemed like an eternity, the thin young man with the green Mohawk opened his mouth to speak.

"There is no Station 0724. Unless you're talking about Balasara, but that's Mount the Eighteenth."

Sakura raised an eyebrow.

**Sasuke**

"She…is very pretty."

**Smack.**

"Ow! What was that for, Angeline!"

"I'M the only one who you should think pretty, Philippe, and besides, _that _isn't even a girl!"

A pause, and a moment of dawning realization. "…oh."

A few more moments. "…then what is it?"

Angeline let out an exasperated sigh, and let a limb down to stroke the child on the forehead.

"It's a child," she said, "A human child. A boy."

"A boy," sniffed Philippe. "Right."

Angeline glared at him. "Yes Philippe, a boy. A handsome boy."

"H-handsome?" he sputtered, "_It _isn't handsome, Angeline, it's pretty!"

Right then, _it _began to wake up slowly. First, two eyes opened. They were inky black eyes, blurry at first, but then everything began to get clearer, slowly. Angeline withdrew her limb from the boy's forehead, which, like the rest of his skin, was increasingly pale. His mouth opened, and a hand reached up to rub his head tenderly. A few soft curses were muttered.

"Tsk," remarked Philippe, "Such filthy language."

The inky black eyes grew sharp, and Angeline berated, "_Philippe!_" but it was too late.

The boy got to his feet, slight dark rings encircling his eyes. It was evident that he was energetic and alive now, unlike the past few hours, in which he had been lying cold and unmoving on the floor of the garden, right next to the stone pond. His eyes swept over the velvety-green foliage, searching for something. The voices…_those _voices who had called themselves Philippe and Angeline.

"W-who's there?" the boy called, provoking a snicker from Philippe.

"Heeheehee…he can't see us."

"Shut up you," snapped Angeline. "The Lady will hear him sooner or later. He won't _need _to see us."

Apparently, the boy's hearing was sharper than they had imagined, because he turned quickly to the pond, narrowing his eyes. A gasp was heard, and then a miniscule splash as they put their heads under the water. Frantically, Philippe and Angeline swam away from the surface of the water, and the human child stared steadily into the depths of the pond.

"He," said Philippe, "Is a scary human child."

"You are an idiot." Snapped Angeline.

Back on the surface, Sasuke peered suspiciously at the small body of water, standing innocent under the dull rays of the sun. After a few minutes, he looked around, wondering where on earth he had ended up in.

It was a garden. A very large garden, no doubt, and it was messy and wild enough to look like Tsunade's. But he didn't remember her having a pond. Or a willow tree. Or a greenhouse.

The young man blinked at the sky. It was a glowing, soft grey, which clearly was NOT the evening sky that he had just left a few minutes ago. Or was it a few hours ago? He didn't remember. Sniffing, Sasuke examined himself. He was still wearing the fine clothes that his mother had set aside for him for Itachi's wedding. Granted, they were somehow frayed and torn at the edges, but that was probably because of the fall he took when he crashed into the plants.

Sasuke looked up.

"Fall? Plants?" he murmured. Where on earth had _that _train of thought come from? Quickly, he glanced at the spot behind him. It was littered with leaves, most flattened and crushed. He looked up. There was a Sasuke-shaped parting in the tree branches. Fallen indeed.

"…mm?"

A faint rustling from behind him made the young man whirl around to face someone. His eyes widened when he saw her. She was a tall woman with brown hair and a nice smile.

"Hello," she said, somewhat uncertainly, "What are you doing here?"

She smelled like peppermint leaves and sunflower seeds. Sasuke opened his mouth. It felt horribly dry.

"I don't know." He managed, "Where am I?"

"…oh." And then she smiled. "It's you."

…me? He wondered, puzzled. He didn't know her. And he was pretty sure she didn't know him. Or at least, she wasn't supposed to know him. He'd never seen her before. Never.

"Don't worry," the woman told Sasuke, "I know where you're going. I'll help you get there," she added, helpfully.

Relief washed through the young man, and it showed. He relaxed, knowing that this…this _escapade_, as his father would call it, would soon come to an end. And he would be back at Itachi's reception again. Like he was a few minutes ago. Or was it a few hours ago…? He didn't remember.

"Follow me," said the woman. She started walking to the greenhouse, and her delicate, white skirt rustled behind her. Sasuke followed, somewhat clueless to all that was happening.

"Your name?" he questioned, hiding the suspicion in his voice. She heard it anyway, and smiled wider and sweeter.

"Rin."

**.0o0.**

Author's Notes:

An update. :) I enjoyed writing this. Well, I wasn't so content with Sasuke's part. They have arrived in Dream Country, at last.


End file.
